Scars and The Stories They Tell
by NinjaDevil2000
Summary: What are Arthur's and Molly's reactions to their youngest son's scars?


Ron was awake. He had had another nightmare. Again. For what felt like the billionth time. He kept hearing it over and over again. Hermione. Screaming. He hated Bellatrix Lestrange. He had always hated her, despised her, ever since learning that she had tortured Neville's parents. That she had murdered Sirius, hurting Harry so badly in the process, and by default, hurting Ron almost as much. He shook his head, trying to clear it of the evil thoughts.

He was at home. The Burrow. 2 months after the Battle of Hogwarts. Harry and Hermione were staying there also.

He couldn't sleep and his throat felt dry. He got out of bed, careful not to disturb Harry sleeping in the bed next to his own. He cracked the door and squeezed through. A bit of a chill came over him as he walked down the creaking stairs. Partly because he was thinking of Hermione's screams again, and also because he was only wearing a pair of sweat pants and loose-fitting t-shirt. Once he reached the landing, he realized somebody else was already in the kitchen. His parents were there, sitting and talking. As he reached the table, his mother stood up and embraced him. Surprised at this action, Ron awkwardly hugged her back and said, "Uh, hello to you too, Mum."

He was pleased to hear her and his father chuckle, as there wasn't near as much laughter in the house as there used to be. Not since Fred . . .

"What are you doing up, son?" asked his father, Arthur Weasley, and worry for his son sank into his voice. Everybody had noticed that Harry, Ron, and Hermione had dark circles under their eyes, would fall asleep at breakfast, and would sometimes be heard whimpering, pleading, or even screaming in their sleep.

"Just getting some water, Dad," Ron replied.

"Ron, are you okay?" asked Molly, looking her son over, for signs of injuries. However, this time, she found some signs of previous injuries.

"What on earth are those? And those?" Molly exclaimed, her hands clutching her mouth in panic. What in Merlin's name had happened to her son?

"Oh, they're nothing, honestly," Ron replied heatedly. "Just forget about it." His parents though, particularly his mother, were not the type to 'forget about it'.

"Ronald Weasley!" his mother said, loudly. "What. Are. They?"

"Mum, please be quiet. You'll wake Harry and Hermione." Molly sighed and her voice returned to the lower volume from then on.

"Ron," began his father, "please tell us what those are?" Arthur pointed at Ron's chest and shoulder. Ron knew what they had seen. His scars.

"I - I don't know if I should. I mean," he recovered at the look on his mother's face, "I don't know if you want to know."

"I'm sure we can handle it," Arthur replied. Ron sighed. His whole family really could be extremely stubborn.

"Fine. These," he pointed at the dozens of small marks across his chest and shoulders, easily visible because the shirt was so baggy, "are all from the Battle at the Department of Mysteries." His parents gasped.

"And this," he continued, "is when I got splinched. Happy now?"

"What do you mean, you got splinched?" his mother exploded.

"And what really happened at the Department of Mysteries?" demanded his father. Both were worried about what they would hear but knew they wouldn't rest until they had heard. Ron sighed again. He didn't want to tell them but he did know they wouldn't rest until they had all the answers.

"Fine." He sat down and his parents sat down a few seconds later. Molly was next him and his father was across from them.

"These," he pointed at his chest, "happened when these really weird tentacled brains got a hold of me. I almost died but I was able to get out of them. It messed me up for a little while, like I wasn't able to think straight 'cause I think they were drugged or something."

"And this one," he continued, pointing at his shoulder, "is when I got splinched, apparating from the Ministry when we were stealing from that old hag." He shuddered at the thought of her and what she had done to Harry and Merlin knows, how many other students. "Anyways, we were going to go back to Grimmauld Place but Yaxley had been following us, so Hermione diverted us to Dean Forest. I got splinched though, so . . ." He looked up from the table at his parents and saw they both had tears in their eyes, his mum's about to fall.

"Mum, Dad, I'm okay." he insisted. "I really am, Harry and Hermione and I are all okay. Now, anyways," he finished, his thoughts once again drifting to his, Harry's, and Hermione's multiple injuries. Not to mention, everybody else's. Every one of his own family had been injured in some way. . . or worse.

"Do you have any other scars?" his mother asked, afraid of the answer. "Only one," her son replied, deciding not to mention the innumerable amount of tiny scars scattered across his skin.

"What is it, son?" Arthur asked, looking over what he could see of his son behind the table. Ron brought his leg up next to him on the chair and showed them two long jagged marks, parallel to one another.

"Oh, Ronnie. What are those?" his mother exclaimed, tears falling freely now.

"These are from when," he swallowed, "Sirius bit me in third year. He was trying to get Pettigrew," he spit the name out in disgust, "and dragged me into the Whomping Willow."

"Oh, Ron!" Molly threw herself onto her son and sobbed into his shoulder. Arthur also looked close to tears but composed himself.

After being hugged and kissed by his mother and thoroughly disliking it, he excused himself and wandered back into his bedroom and fell onto his bed. He fell a bit comforted knowing his parents knew about a few of the things that had happened, and fell asleep instantly.

P.S.

I attempted to make it canon-compliant as with all my stories, but if there are any mistakes such as plot holes, time errors, etc, let me know and I will try my hardest to fix them. You know what? Scratch that. DO OR DO NOT. THERE IS NO TRY. _Tell 'em Master Yoda!_


End file.
